


The Modern Morpheus

by nativemossy



Series: The Light of All Lights [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Caretaking, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magical Realism, Romantic Fluff, Sickfic, Vampire Bucky Barnes, Witch Tony Stark, t+ for more swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nativemossy/pseuds/nativemossy
Summary: “Barnes, if you’re here for another fortune I can confidently tell you to fuck off,” Tony gruffed out, inwardly cringing at the nasally tone it came out in. Bucky looked alarmed. “It’s really not the best time right now.”“Doll, even if you sounded better than that I wouldn’t be asking for another fortune.”





	The Modern Morpheus

**Author's Note:**

> usually i give yall the quote from which I took the title but I'm gonna be real it's completely unrelated to the story. It is, however, from Dracula, so I'm keeping On Brand.
> 
> this took way too long to get out but in my defense college is hard and I am but one man

          If he was being frank about it, Tony felt like shit.

          If he was going to be at least a little professional about it, one of the snot-nosed brats that popped in every so often (of whom he swore he was absolutely not fond of whatsoever) likely brought a virus from whatever school they went to, and after rubbing their grubby hands all over his nice counters left their nasty germs everywhere.

          And thus, Tony was sick. But he wasn’t sick, because he didn’t do sickness. He had absolutely no time whatsoever for being sick. He had a business to run, ergo, no time to be sick.

          Because of this, he was doing his best to power through it, as he usually did. He took a couple of pills whose bottle cheerfully promised to soothe all symptoms and trooped his way downstairs to the shop, grabbing the spray bottle to tend to the mandrake and mallow he had growing in pots along the window sill. The urge to just magic through his morning chores was strong - especially when his brain began pounding against his skull - but he worked to ignore it. Warnings about abusing his abilities rang about his ears and he grimaced, wishing however briefly that he wasn’t a somewhat sensible person.

          He was feeling less and less sensible as the day went on, and more like a moron who was gradually getting in way over his head.

          Tony had this realization as he was waving good old Mrs. Abram out the door, wavering on his feet like a newborn foal. He could feel when his teeth began to chatter, and recognized a vague tingling in his cheeks that signalled a flush.

          He had about four more hours until he could acceptably close the shop. Until then he had no excuses, he just had to make it four mo-

          “Tony?” a voice called, carrying with it the chime of the bell on the door. Tony looked up to see Bucky step through the door, carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Tony felt his stomach drop to the floor.

          This was the first time they had seen each other since the “hey I’m a vampire, surprise!” reveal, and Tony was in no state for the conversation (read: yelling match) they needed to have about it. To make matters worse, Bucky had a sad-puppy look on his big dumb vampire face that was making it very hard to remain irritated at him.

          “Barnes, if you’re here for another fortune I can confidently tell you to fuck off,” Tony gruffed out, inwardly cringing at the nasally tone it came out in. Bucky looked alarmed. “It’s really not the best time right now.”

          “Doll, even if you sounded better than that I wouldn’t be asking for another fortune.” Bucky plodded over to the counter, frowning concernedly down at where Tony was slumped in his rolling chair. Tony looked up, then made an aborted move to dodge Bucky’s hand when it came up to rest against his forehead. “Tony hold on a minute, I’m trying to get your temperature.” Bucky tutted softly, reaching over the counter to gently hold him still.

          Tony knew that if he really wanted to he could break Bucky’s hold, but he didn’t want to waste the energy. If he was honest with himself, the cool hand on his forehead felt nice too. He was gonna bring up that nickname usage later, much later, probably when he didn’t feel like sitting down on the floor and crying like a two year old.

          “You’re burning up Tony,” Bucky frowned, his entire being practically radiating concern. “Why the hell would you even try to work today? Can you even stand up?”

          “I can’t close down the shop just because I’m feeling a little under the weather, Barnes.” Tony muttered, tactfully avoiding Bucky’s second question. “When it’s time to close I’ll just go upstairs and sleep for a bit, I’ll be fine by morning.”

          Bucky frowned again, looking for all the world like he was speaking to an idiot. Which was demonstrably false; Tony was a genius. He was tested as a kid, he probably still had the papers somewhere. Somewhere where he didn’t remember where they were. Probably with his birth certificate and the title to the car that he never drove. Huh, maybe he should go looking for those. Sometime. Soon.

          Bucky was waving his hand in front of Tony’s face, looking both concerned and grudgingly amused. “Tony?” He asked, bringing his hand to rest on the counter between them. “You still with me?”

          Tony waved away the concern, moving to stand up and swaying slightly as he did. “I’m fine, rea-” Just as he overbalanced, Bucky was right in front of him with both hands on his shoulders, both warm and steady points of contact. Tony squinted up at him, doing his best to glare threateningly.

          “Tony I really think you should go back upstairs for today.” Barnes intoned, looking soft and concerned and all the things that Tony Really Didn’t Want To Think About that afternoon. Tony continued to frown up at him as he was turned around and slowly marched towards the stairs, stumbling a bit as he went.

          Tony dug his heels in as soon as his brain caught up with his body, pushing lightly at the hands still framing his shoulders. “Barnes, cut it out! If I miss any walk-ins that’s revenue I’ll never get back, I’m running a business here-!”

          He was cut off as Bucky sighed, swinging him into his arms as if he weighed nothing. Tony’s head spun with the sudden movement and he struggled to get a grasp on the situation. He shifted slightly as Bucky continued moving.

          “Tony, I’ll pay the difference for whatever business you lose, just- fucking stop squirming!” He barked, locking his arms together as Tony attempted in earnest to wriggle his way to freedom. Tony froze when he felt Bucky go up the first step, unwilling to send them both flying down the stairs.

          “I need to be down there to lock up, Barnes,” He warned weakly, slumping back into Bucky’s chest. “If anything gets stolen I’m charging you for that too.”

          Bucky chuckled, bouncing Tony slightly as he shifted one arm from under him. He opened the door to Tony’s apartment, smoothly hefting the weight of a grown man as if he was nothing more than a grocery bag. Tony did his best not to look too appreciative of this. By the smug way Barnes puffed out his chest, he was guessing he wasn’t doing too terribly well.

          Bucky stopped in the middle of the living room, glancing around in barely concealed curiosity. “It’s the second door on the right, down the hall.” Tony directed, feeling exhaustion sink in to his bones. If he had more energy he would be embarrassed about the state the apartment was in - he was almost certain there was at least one pair of boxer briefs left on the back of the couch, an embarrassing amount of crumbs in the carpet, and there was absolutely an avalanche of dirty dishes in the sink.

          Tony was broken out of his thoughts on his messy apartment by Bucky, who dropped him softly on his bed. He stood for a moment, frowning and sniffing the air faintly. Tony felt himself droop a little bit more with each passing second, exhaustion and embarrassment warring for space in his head.

          “Look, I realize it’s a mess, could you just ignore it? Or, I don’t know, go home?” He mumbled, snapping Bucky out of whatever fugue he had entered. Bucky flushed slightly, then looked down at Tony. There was an emotion in his eyes that Tony couldn’t place, though whether that was the fever or his uselessness with anything approaching feelings was hard to say. Before Tony could parse what any of it meant, Bucky picked him up again, setting him instead on a chair in the corner of the room.

          “Where’s your linen closet?” Bucky asked, stripping the sheets off the bed as he passed. Tony blinked dazedly for a minute, then started when Bucky looked back at him.

          “It’s at the end of the hall,” He murmured, watching Bucky mill around with no small amount of appreciation. “So, why are you doing this again?” He intoned, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward. “Not, that I’m complaining or anything.” He made a feeble attempt at a leer, and probably landed somewhere near a cheesy grin if the chuckle he earned had anything to say about it.

          “I’m changing your sheets.” Bucky grinned when Tony huffed, tucking the sheets into tight military corners. “They smelled old and it’ll be good for you to lay on something clean while you’re not feeling well.”

          The room sat in silence for a long moment, broken only with Bucky opening the window on the far wall, then picking Tony up and placing him in bed. Tony yawned despite himself, feeling the sleepiness he’d been fighting come creeping in.

          Bucky chuckled again, a warm and inviting sound that Tony wanted to wrap up in and luxuriate in. As it was, all he could really muster the energy for was a delighted wiggle of his toes. He felt a light brush at the top of his head, and he cracked his eyes open to look up at Bucky, faintly wondering as to when he had closed them.

          “Take a nap, doll,” He began, smoothing a wayward curl off of Tony’s forehead. Tony leaned into the touch, his smooth palm feeling delightfully cool against his flushed skin. “I’ll make some dinner for you while you sleep.”

          “Mmmm, ok…” Tony trailed off, already halfway asleep. His last coherent thought before he dropped off to sleep was a desperate hope that Bucky wouldn’t think any less of him once he saw the state of his kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can catch me on [tumblr](https://nativemossy.tumblr.com/), [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/nativemossy), and [dreamwidth](https://nativemossy.dreamwidth.org/). Feel free to fling your questions/comments/msc ramblings at my inbox, I love to talk with people about my fics and aus!


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